Books like Recollections of My Life — picked by fans

One of Oliver Sack’s delightful books containing stories of individuals with various neurological disorders. I read the first one, The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, back in the 1980s  when it first came out and was hooked, now having read almost all of them.

The one I am recommending is, I believe, more relevant to an understanding of brain mechanisms. One criticism I have had of Sack’s books is that there is little in the way of neurobiological explanations for the conditions described. In my book, most chapters begin with a Sack-like story about a specific neurological condition that is then explained, as far as possible, neurobiologically in the chapter.

Although this book has been around for a very long time, I only encountered it earlier this year.

It is a scientific fiction novel based on a supposed treatment given to a mentally handicapped young man (Charlie) that gave him great intelligence. This treatment had been tried earlier on mice (one being Algernon), enabling them to do cognitive tasks impossible for ordinary mice. The basis for much of the book was that the treatment was not permanent, and first, Algernon and then Charlie deteriorated back to where they were cognitively before the treatment.

The book beautifully describes what it was like (in Charlie’s own words) to be cognitively disabled before the treatment and how he was treated by people; then, when the treatment was effective, and finally, as he was deteriorating, which he recognized was happening. Although fictional, the descriptions of the cognitive changes in Charlie are compelling.

One of the world’s best neuroscientists, who won the Nobel Prize in 2000, engagingly describes neurological and cognitive diseases/conditions and how they can be debilitating but, in some cases, can lead to extraordinary mental abilities in memory, visual arts, etc.

It came out the same year as my book, and it adds to and complements it. I found the descriptions of brain disorders compelling and the history of psychiatry woven into the chapters fascinating. The relationship between certain cognitive disorders and highly creative people is discussed, and an intriguing reason for this is proposed.

This fascinating book is essentially the story of prefrontal lobotomies and the surgery that was developed to carry out the procedure. Although it did help certain violent patients, it had serious side effects not recognized initially and was used inappropriately on too many patients (including President Kennedy’s sister).

The book recounts the history of why the procedure was developed and many of the scientists and surgeons involved. It provides a perfect case study of the caution needed when a new, thought to be miraculous, treatment for any disease is first tried.

When I needed a break from Regency England, Anna Lee Huber coaxed me up to Scotland with this book. It hooked me from the start with the unusual main character’s backstory as an artist turned anatomy illustrator.

What kept me reading was Huber’s imagery, which was rich with the depth and colors only an artist would notice. The slow-burn romance hit all the right notes. 

Royer adores Sor Juana, as do I. There are some wonderful surprises here, such as a long list of authors that Sor Juana likely read. The images that he presents, such as the church where la Vicereine Leonore was buried, are personal rather than scholarly. Yes, he does still speak from a purely male perspective, but it feels gentler than most.

Sor Juana was dubbed “The Tenth Muse” by an admiring priest in Spain upon publication of her poetry, and the sobriquet has remained with her throughout the centuries.

Not only did we fall head-over-heels in love with Spain, but we also developed a love of Spanish food. The village ladies gave us recipes scribbled on the backs of envelopes which we often lost, so this book by the delicious Omar Allibhoy holds a permanent place on our bookshelf now. Believe me, his croquetas de jamón are to die for, and I agree with the reviewer who claims that Omar changed the way she cooks tortillas forever. The photos of the finished dishes are arty and attractive and (cough, cough) there are plenty of Omar himself which are also pretty easy on the eye. If you don’t believe me, check him out on YouTube.

Driving Over Lemons is a quintessential travel book that inspired me to throw away my regular life and start exploring the world.

This classic tale takes you to far-flung shores bathed in sunshine, filled with misadventures, and bursting with glorious food. What more could you need to start dreaming, take a leap, and make your perfect life a reality? 

This is my go-to for the start of any big project and always gives me the courage to go for it and laugh in the face of adversity on the way.

The Visigothic kingdom of Spain was long dismissed in older books as a barbaric backwater, the darkest point of the so-called Dark Ages. Yet it was, in truth, a vibrant cultural centre for more than two centuries, until falling to the forces of Islam in 711. Hillgarth’s fascinating book gives an excellent short survey of Visigothic history, and then explores how the legends surrounding the Goths were developed and exploited by later Spanish generations, from the Christian Reconquista and the sixteenth-century Golden Age to modern times. This creation of an idealized Gothic past provided inspiration and a sense of identity in Spain, in sharp contrast to Italy where the Goths were depicted during the Renaissance as the savage destroyers of classical civilization.

Incomparable. In the long effort by scholars to establish the facts about the brilliant period of Al-Andalus—711-1492—this book is a breakthrough and a marvel. Salma Khadra Jayyusi assembled the leading scholars in the field on a whole host of subjects, and the two volumes have everything from meditations on broad historical themes to detailed accounts of book-making, ceramics, and techniques of dyeing and weaving silk. No serious reader of the history of Spain should have to live without these two extraordinary volumes.